Andor's Shame
by Efrum the Retarded Rabbit
Summary: This is my extremelyunlikelytohappen take on what will happen to Elayne and Rand's son. Does anyone really think Andor will welcome the Dragon Reborn's son with open arms? I don't.


**_Chapter 1 – Shame of a Nation _**

A young man walked along the cobblestone pathway within the royal grounds of Caemlyn's Inner City. He had reddish hair and eyes that resembled a stormy sky, both of which he had inherited from his father. The man was dressed quite finely, in a red silk coat with the sleeves upturned and the breast bearing the symbol of Andor, a white lion, as well as a silk shirt and pants made of the same material. As he walked, the young man passed the royal servants. Some stared for a split second, then looked away in shame and embarrassment, while others avoided looking at him, in a way that was so obvious it was laughable. However, the man was used to it. Everyone knew him. His fame, though unwanted, had spread outside of Andor to even the farthest corners of the globe. His name struck fascination, and, sometimes, fear into the hearts and minds of people everywhere. He was Andor's First Prince of the Sword, Luthair Trakand.

Luthair was often the topic of conversation among both the Great Houses and the common folk of Andor. After all, who could ignore the fact that the son of Rand al'Thor, the Dragon Reborn, was a member of your nation's high royalty?

Honestly, he could have done without the attention. He sometimes cursed his father's name, even knowing it had not been Rand's intention to have his son known the world over. Luthair knew also that it had been his mother's fault as well. His five half-siblings had been lucky enough to avoid all this negative publicity. Why? Because they were the children of women who were virtually unknown. He was the son of her Majesty, the Queen Elayne.

As Luthair continued his stroll along the grounds, he pondered why Ishara, his twin sister, had not reached the same level of infamy. But then, this was not a new query for him. He already knew the answer. Beloved Ishara was the Daughter-Heir of Andor, the next in line to the throne. He suppose people could overlook anything out of necessity. Who would insult their future queen? That the father of the future queen was the man who had nearly torn the world in two didn't faze them. The fact that she could channel, and was currently training in the White Tower wasn't an issue. In fact, it was a tradition! But, the very fact that Luthair was an Asha'man, a man who could channel, as well as the son of the Dragon Reborn, had condemned him for life. _Bloody hypocrites_.

Luthair would have continued his walk, lost in thought, uninterrupted, had he not bumped into a tall, sun-haired girl who happened to be striding down the same walkway as he was. The girl was dressed in a modest dress embroidered with a white lily on the breast, made of silk, as was his own outfit. The dress came up almost to her neck, had carefully fitted sleeves, and went down to nearly her ankles. She stared at him angrily with bright green eyes, as if telling him that them bumping into each other was entirely his fault. Her name was Elyena, the daughter of a woman named Elmindreda, and his half-sister.

She continued staring for a moment, then nearly screamed, "Must you walk aimlessly about like a clueless oaf!? Being the First Prince of the Sword doesn't excuse you from assaulting a lady, even if it is because of your own idiocy!"

Luthair merely stared at her in response, for two reasons. The first, his grayish-blue eyes were both intimidating and saddening, often making people frightened and sympathetic at the same time. The second, this was nothing new. Elyena had always been quick-tempered and mean-spirited for seemingly no reason, and often burst out angrily at whoever was unlucky enough to cross her path. She was always especially irritable when her mother forced her to visit Ishara and himself, as was the case now.

As always, Luthair's emotionless stare had the desired effect. Elyena turned away, and for a split second he could have sworn he saw shame in her eyes. _No, that couldn't be_.

"It would do you well to remember that you cannot seek forgiveness in every matter simply because you share a father with the First Prince and Daughter-Heir," he said slowly and calmly. Elyena seemed to take the hint, and walked around him carefully. Luthair watched as she passed him and strolled down the path to the royal gardens. Then he turned and walked in the direction he had originally been going, opposite to hers.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Once inside the castle, Luthair walked slowly down the main halls, receiving the same nervous looks as he had outside. Anxious to get away from this, he headed toward his personal quarters. Unfortunately, as his luck would have it, he was stopped yet again, but this time, it seemed, on purpose.

_Blood and ashes! Can I not have a moment's peace today?_ Standing in front of him was his cousin, Aran, the son of Gawyn and Egwene. Aran favored his father, and had the same sun-colored hair and blue eyes. Today he was dressed in a coat of blue silk with black trousers, and wore a simple black silk cloak over it all. He seemed to be attempting to murder Luthair with his piercing blue glare, but, as with most people who had tried this very same action, he was failing.

"My father and her Majesty, the Queen Elayne, have requested to see you in the throne room." He said it as if this conversation were a chore to him, which, from Aran's perspective, it probably was.

Luthair nodded his agreement, then walked past Aran in the direction of the throne room. At least he had something to think about and to take his mind off of other matters. But, on the other hand, he felt as if he was being punished for a crime he didn't commit. _Story of my life_.

He arrived at the throne room, then pushed the mighty wooden doors open and stepped inside. There he saw his mother, sitting on the Lion Throne, as always, accompanied by his uncle, the general of her armies and her foremost advisor.

Gawyn, while always trying to be loving and supportive for all his family members, had always been one of those people that blatantly avoided looking at him. His mother, the Queen Elayne, however, was not.

"Your presence has been requested in Tar Valon, at the White Tower," she said flatly.

Luthair blinked, and, in one of those rare occasions where he was actually shocked, had no response. He was certain he had heard wrong. For his entire life, Luthair had been told that the general Aes Sedai opinion of him was that, as a member of the Black Tower, he was a danger to himself and others. He opened his mouth to tell his mother so, but was cut off by Gawyn.

"The Amyrlin Seat and the Daughter-Heir have both requested that you begin your training as a Warder. As you are well aware, this is the tradition of Andor's royal family."

_Of course I'm aware!_ He wanted to scream it out. Instead, though, he opted to maintain his composure, and to give a calm, logical response, as was expected of him.

"I was under the impression that the White Tower had already denied my presence in Tar Valon as a whole," he told the two of them in the same emotionless tone that had used.

"That was before. Now, the White Tower is nearly begging for the First Prince to train as a Warder," his mother informed him.

Luthair, once again, was thrown for a loop. _Begging?_ The White Tower didn't beg anyone for anything. _She must be exaggerating_. Clearly his mother believed she could convince him to go by making him pity the Tower in its desperation. But, he had made up his mind when they had denied his right to train in Tar Valon years ago.

"I refuse," he told his mother and uncle. Elayne gave him a cold stare, devoid of any feeling whatsoever. His uncle, however, had a different reaction.

"You will go, lest you shame the great nation of Andor more than you already have!" Gawyn screamed at him.

Luthair was taken aback by Gawyn's harsh words. Elayne, who had previously not even had the smallest hint of an expression on her face, was staring in shock. Even his uncle, the man who had said the words, seemed frozen with surprise. There was an awkward silence. Then, without warning, Luthair turned around and stormed out of the throne room.

He walked toward his private quarters quickly, almost to the point of running. He heard Gawyn yelling after him, perhaps to say sorry for the uncalled for outburst. Luthair didn't care to listen. He only wanted to get away from everyone as fast as he possibly could.

Even as Luthair entered his chambers and closed the door tightly, he knew he shouldn't have been this upset. After all, his uncle was right. He was Andor's shame.


End file.
